


Mycroft's Three Attempts

by sorcererofsupremepizza



Series: Mycroft and Lestrade - Relationship Shenanigans [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, He struggles to figure out what to get Lestrade, Hilarity Ensues, M/M, Then he decides not to shop at all, Valentine's Day, it's all done from the heart, why is he so hard to shop for?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 10:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorcererofsupremepizza/pseuds/sorcererofsupremepizza
Summary: Mycroft wants to get Greg the perfect Valentine's Day gift. Only problem is, he has no idea what to get such a wonderful man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to you all. I am really late posting these on AO3. I mostly just leave stuff on tumblr. That is, of course, until my friends kept pestering me to add things (*cough* Lau *cough*) here.

Mycroft checked the calendar as he rolled out of bed: February 12. He furrowed his brow as he sat there, still groggy from sleep. A hand came up to his face, rubbing away the drowsy fog.

February, February. Something itched in the back of his mind, but he was too tired to remember what it was at the time. Work had been insanely busy since the United States started falling into shambles. Working for the government – being the government – definitely had its downsides. However, Mycroft Holmes would see to it that no harm befell his demesne.

* * *

It wasn’t until he was sitting at his kitchen table, nursing a large mug of coffee that he remembered what was so important this week: February 14th. Valentine’s Day. His phone pinged with a text and he yawned, withdrawing it from the pocket of the navy suit he currently donned. A notification from “Gregory L.” appeared on the screen.

_Good morning, dearest. Sleep well?_

Mycroft smiled to himself. Normally, texts like this would annoy him, but not when the Detective Inspector was involved. It brightened the elder Holmes’ day to know that someone was thinking of him. And a text like that meant he was the first thing on the other man’s mind. He tapped back a similar reply and moved to his office, deciding to work from home today. Well, it wasn’t exactly work per se, as research for the absurd commercial holiday that was just two days from today.

He flattened his tie, sitting down at his desk. With a sigh, he opened his laptop, unsure of what to do. Finally, he began researching the holiday, trying to figure out what in the world he bought for someone with whom he was romantically entangled. All of the gifts seemed asinine and cliché. With a scoff, he slammed the laptop shut and checked his phone for another message, frowning slightly when there wasn’t one. No matter, Greg had to work too. Mycroft thought it foolish that he was just waiting around for texts, but then he realized: when they care about someone, that’s what people do.

* * *

 

His driver delivered him to the nearest high-end department store. Mycroft had expensive and exquisite tastes, and no one would change that. Plus, since Lestrade was his boyfriend, he would treat him like royalty; the man deserved it. He was brilliant and charming, handsome and wonderful. He made Mycroft happy. He made Mycroft feel human.

So what the fuck was Mycroft supposed to buy a man like that? He didn’t want to ask anyone for help. That would be too embarrassing. But he also didn’t want to fuck this up. It was the first Valentine’s Day that he and Greg would be celebrating together, and it would be the first time Mycroft had ever observed the holiday as anything more than just another calendar day in the first place. He considered calling Sherlock and immediately discarded the idea. He did not feel like dealing with the incessant mentions of his emotional inferiority. He could corner Dr. Watson and get him to talk. Of course that would get back to Sherlock. He even considered getting Anthea to do the shopping for him, but immediately discarded that thought – this was his gift to Greg, and it had to be done properly, from the heart. He bit his lip as he got out of the car, peering up at the building. He hefted his umbrella, hooking it onto his arm as he strode inside the spinning glass doors.

He racked his brains, trying to come up the perfect gift for the perfectly imperfect Detective Inspector. He wandered up and down aisles, picking up various items, but nothing seemed to suit the other man. Finally, Mycroft had had enough and left the shop, feeling incredibly disillusioned with the entire holiday.

As he got back into his car, an idea struck him.  

* * *

“Okay, so this can’t be that hard. It’s science, isn’t it? I’m one of the cleverest men in the world, surely I can do this.” Mycroft said, trying to reassure himself as he removed his suit coat and rolled the sleeves of another crisp white button-down shirt. He withdrew a solid blue apron from the bottom drawer next to the sink and tied it behind him. Then, he wandered back to the table and picked up his phone, looking at the red velvet cake recipe he’d looked up online. “It’s just a cake. Lestrade makes you delicious food all the time. This can’t be that hard, surely?”

His phone pinged, interrupting his thoughts.

_Mycroft, I require your assistance. SH_

The British Government frowned at the screen, dialing his brother’s number. “What did you do, now? I am quite occupied at the moment, brother dear.” Mycroft withdrew some mixing bowls and the top-of-the-line mixer from the cupboard, setting it all on the countertop.

“Valentine’s Day is just two days away, Mycroft.” Sherlock said, stating the obvious in a very uncharacteristic fashion.

“I am aware of the date, Sherlock.” Mycroft said, becoming annoyed. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Mycroft, I need your help. I… I have to get something for John for Valentine’s Day, and I don’t know what to do.” Sherlock sighed, desperate for help.

Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You think I do? I’m struggling just as much as you are, Sherlock.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Mycroft. What good are you?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, walking to the refrigerator to withdraw the remaining ingredients for the cake. He bumped it shut with his hip and meandered back to the table. “Alright, alright fine. It’s Dr. Watson. You know what he likes better than anyone else, Sherlock. I do apologize, but I am very busy right now.” And Mycroft ended the call, determined to focus on this and make it right. He’d never baked anything so elaborate before, and he wanted it to be perfect.

* * *

**The first attempt: February 13 th, 2:01am**

Mycroft’s face was covered in flour, egg, and sugar. He hadn’t used the mixer in years and the settings were not the same as he remembered. Sure, he was clever, but he had to delete some things to keep his intelligence relevant to current events and the tasks at hand.

“Oh bugger!” He’d shouted as the semi-mixed ingredients were thrown from the bowl, the physical force sending them across his face and apron. Of course, he still managed to ruin his tie. Surely Valentine’s Day wasn’t worth this much trouble?

* * *

**The second attempt: February 13, 12:46pm**

The cake had worked out fine, but the cream cheese frosting was runny, and it soaked into the cake in a way that frosting should most certainly not. Mycroft growled and threw the bowl of “frosting” into the sink, throwing his face into his hands, his cake-covered, frosting sheened hands. “For goodness sake!” He grabbed the nearest bottle of wine, forgoing the glass and downing it straight from the bottle.

* * *

**The third, and final time: February 14 th, 12:12am**

Mycroft set down the piping tube, wiping the sweat from his brow as he spun the cake around gently to admire his handiwork. The multiple attempts at the cake paid off, and his disheveled state just revealed how much effort truly went into the masterpiece before him. It was a three-layer red velvet cake mixed with a bottle of the finest red Merlot. The cake was slathered in cream cheese frosting and adorned with red and white blossoms of icing around the circumference of the top and bottom of the cake. He finished the appearance with a few strawberries, set in an X-like pattern on the top.

It had been hell to make, but it was well worth the time he’d put into it. He hoped Greg would be as pleased as he was when he came over to Mycroft’s house later that afternoon.


	2. If You're Not Averse...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day, and Mycroft is going to give both parts of his gift to his delightful Gregory. Greg returns the favor.

Greg walked up to the ornate house, swallowing harshly. His fingers clasped the strings of the red gift bag at his side, nervously raising and lowering it in a stressful fashion. He had no idea what to buy Mycroft Holmes for a Valentine’s Day present; he hoped the other man liked what he’d gotten him. He readjusted his charcoal suit, fluffing his hair and fixing his tie. Before he knocked on the door, Mycroft was already hauling it open and hauling Greg inside, drawing him into a sweet kiss.

When it ended, Greg smiled at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Myc.” He said with a charming smile, proffering the bag to his boyfriend. “It’s not much, but you’re a difficult man to shop for.”

Mycroft chuckled softly and took the bag from the other man, not yet opening it. “Yours is in the kitchen. Come on.” He said, turning on his heel and leading the other man deeper into the house.

When Greg entered the kitchen, he noticed how spotless it was. Mycroft had cleaned the house for this very occasion. Everything was put away as it should have been, except for a small lidded cake plate in the middle of the table. Greg furrowed his brow and glanced at Mycroft.

“Go ahead. That’s your gift, Gregory.” Mycroft said, stepping to the side to let the other man open it. He glanced at the bag in his hand, but he wanted to see Lestrade’s reaction to the cake first. Greg removed the lid from the platter and his eyes widened.

“Whoa…” He gasped, licking his lips as he saw it. “D-did you make this, from scratch?” He glanced up at Mycroft, who had suddenly started blushing. He nodded.

“Do you like it?” Mycroft asked. “Everything I thought about buying you seemed wrong, and since you’re such a great cook I thought, maybe I could tr—

Mycroft never finished his sentence, as it was cut off by Greg’s lips against his. Greg steered him back against the countertop, holding him there and kissing him roughly, but sweetly. The impact was enough to knock the gift bag from Mycroft’s hand.

The passion flowed from the both of them, and Greg grinned into the kiss, drawing away with a chuckle. Mycroft raised his brows. “Should I take that as a yes?” He said, scratching his face a little as Greg turned back to the cake.

“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble. I know you don’t cook that often, let alone bake such an elaborate cake.” Greg’s gaze was positively overflowing with affection at this point.

Mycroft shrugged and waved a hand. “It wasn’t a problem, honestly.” Luckily, years of being a Holmes and acting as the British Government made him an expert liar. Greg whistled, impressed.

“I love it. Thank you. I can’t wait to taste it… if it’s anywhere near as good as the chef, it should be positively exquisite. It’s your turn to open your gift now, Myc.”

Myc glanced at the bag he had been holding, bending over to pick it up. He reached into the bag and withdrew a DVD case. He glanced down at it and saw the title, _Roman Holiday_. It was a romantic film from the 1950s starring Audrey Hepburn, and it was one of his favorite films of all time. But that wasn’t all; it was a collector’s, platinum edition complete with bonus featurettes and scenes. Mycroft beamed as he looked on it.

“Gregory… this is wonderful!” Mycroft exclaimed, gently enveloping the other man in a hug. “Is this the plan for our first Valentine’s Day, cake and a film?”

“I don’t see why we have to go out and do anything over-the-top. Nights in with you are the best. But instead of watching the movie on your couch, let’s lie in bed and watch it together.” Greg winked at him, and before he could reply further, Mycroft was already dragging him upstairs to his bedroom. Mycroft didn’t have a TV in here, but he had his laptop, and cuddling with his boyfriend in his bed topped the entertainment experience of his home theater system anyway.

Before he opened the DVD case, he withdrew an envelope from his pocket with Greg’s name on it.

“What’s this?” He asked, about to open it. Mycroft tugged it away from him, biting back a smirk. “Not yet. Wait until after the movie.” Greg raised an eyebrow, but nodded as the other man played the film.

As their movie watching experiences went, they heard more of the movie than they saw. And after it was over, even though it was only early evening, they lay in bed together, their noses brushing against each other and their lips pressed together more times than they weren’t. The kisses trailed across each other’s face from their nose, to their cheeks, their jaws, and back to their lips. It was a wonderful night full of joy and affection. Then Mycroft stopped kissing Greg long enough to give him the envelope.

Greg tore into it and scanned the page.

 _My dear Gregory_ ,

_Normally, I am not one for soppy messages and letters of affection, but as I have said many times before, you are the exception to every rule. So here you are, my very first Valentine’s Day message, for my very first Valentine._

_When you first asked me to dinner, I was very perplexed by the entire notion. Why would anyone want to have dinner with me, especially someone as delightfully charming and handsome as the best Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard?_

_But then the relationship kept evolving and improving, until I finally worked up the nerve to ask you to be my boyfriend. And what a night that was!_

_You have made me an extremely happy man, Gregory, and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us as a couple. Although I may not understand affairs of the heart, I understand one thing: I absolutely adore your company and you, and I do believe I have one more gift for you besides that red velvet delight in the kitchen._

_If you are not averse to it, I am ready for the world to know about us, the consequences be damned. History cannot define us, and our relationship isn’t predicated upon social norms. Apologies for the rambling, but with your consent, I believe we should let our friends and family know. Whether that is in-person or via social media outlets, I have no preference. But I am tired of keeping you, my most brilliant boyfriend, a secret from everyone._

_Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear Gregory. You have stolen my heart with your charm and charisma, and there is nothing that compares to the feeling of warmth and joy that you fill me with every single time you cross my mind._

_Most sincerely yours,_

_Mycroft H._

Greg finished the letter and looked up at him. “Of course I’m okay with it, Mycroft. Let’s do it right now.” He grinned and rolled over, grabbing his phone from the table on his side of the bed. Mycroft did the same, altering his relationship status from the single it had been all the years he had had the account to “in a relationship.” It might have just been a silly social tradition, but seeing those words on his profile sent a wave of adoration for the Detective Inspector pouring over Mycroft Holmes, who leaned sideways and kissed Gregory Lestrade just as both of their phones started blowing up with notifications from family, friends, and colleagues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to read the second chapter! Thanks!


End file.
